TIFA

It reaches for her gently, almost ghostly. Like an echo.

A delicate, ivory hand traces a line up her abdomen, from her navel to her sternum. It continues upward, between her breasts, sliding up her neck and over her chin to finally rest a single finger on her bottom lip. She has an undeniable sense of serenity, one that feels foreign to her.

Who are you? She wants to ask, but she can't, and she feels like she shouldn't. Like she knows, she knows very intimately in fact, but only in the haze of this world. But the world around her feels like a distant memory. Her breathing is slow and deep, and the air feels heavy on her chest. She wants to turn her head to look, reach a hand out to whoever it is beside her, but the pressure on her body doesn't allow it. And yet…she is not afraid. She is curious. And she comes to notice the underlying desire, manifesting as a burning deep inside of her that she now feels in the slow flutter of her eyelids all the way down to the soles of her feet.

It's an odd combination, she thinks. To feel so at peace, yet to feel like every nerve on the surface of her skin was firing at the same time. Her bottom lip is pulled gently apart from her top lip and she breathes out slowly. She hears the blood rushing in her ears, a deafening roar.

"Are you…," a soft voice resonates from her left, sounding sweet, feminine, and foreign to her. "Are you okay?" The voice swiftly cuts through the roaring in her ears, like a fighter jet cutting through storm clouds. The ivory hand gently slides from her lip into position on her cheek. A genuine gesture.

"I'm here," The voice continues. Her breath catches.

"Tifa."

"Ah!" Tifa gasps loudly, pushing herself off the mattress and flinging the sheet off of her in one motion, reaching to her left for someone who is – to her confusion – not there. She feels hot, sweat matting her dark hair to her forehead and dampening her sleep shirt. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breathing labored. She looks around, reddish-brown eyes scanning the room. She glances to the window next to the front door of her apartment, where moonlight leaves a streak of dull light on the floor.

"That was…weird." She sighs, hearing a shakiness in her own voice. She reaches behind her head to pull her long hair up into a ponytail, and falls limply back into the bed. The feelings she had just experienced linger in her mind and on the surface of her skin for what seems like forever, and she can only hope that she's able to fall back asleep.

AERITH

The wheels of the makeshift wooden cart roll unsteadily through the dirt, over gravel and odd bits and pieces of metal and glass. Chain-link fences line either side of the path. Mounds of trash, odd boxes, and old machinery form dunes on the opposite sides of the fence, making the fence bend in some areas, and collapse in others. The pathway is narrow and shares the same grayness as every other path the woman has traversed today. Even with the lack of natural sunlight, the hovering plate of the Sector above and the humongous lamps used to light the slums left an uncomfortable heat and stuffiness this time of day.

The cart she pushed was made of mismatched wooded planks, hammered together with rusty nails, and had a handle made of a random metal pipe she had found amidst the trash dunes back in the Sector 5 slums. To save her hands some grief and avoid blisters, she wrapped the pipe with a light pink scarf. On the left side of the cart, she had written in red paint, "FLOWERS! ONLY 5 GIL," and added some small flowers with yellow paint.

The flowers she had painted on the cart, however, could never compare to what the cart carried. The cart was overflowing with flowers of all different types and colors. Violet blue windflowers with petals spread wide, next to deep red roses in the perfect stage, with their petals barely beginning to coil outward. In the front were white lilies that had speckles of red and yellow near the center. She brought new varieties of flowers out every time she made a trip.

"Whew," she breathes out, raising her wrist to her forehead to wipe the sweat out from beneath her bangs, light brown strands still sticking to her temples. I think I'll push my limit today, and check out Sector 7 for a while, then call it a day and head home, she decides. She usually stopped in the neighboring Sector 6, and never really thought or desired to go any further with her cart.

Her tired hands push the cart through the entrance gate of the Sector 7 slums, traversing the dirt paths to the heart of the slum. She passes homes made of sheet metal, other made of stone, and some of wood. It was a miniature city, a home thrown together the best they could with what they had. She hears fragments of conversations around her, discussions of a neighborhood watch, a tally of monsters slain this week, a sale on fire materia at the local supplier. She also hears more than a few eager conversations about a local bar opening for the night soon.

A busy time of day, she thinks. A perfect time to sell some flowers!

She parks herself and the cart in the center of what appears to be the main square. She stuck out like a sore thumb, her own parade of vibrant color in the middle of the dreary background. She herself was in a soft white dress with floral embroidery ending mid-thigh.

After a while, her cart begins to empty and her gil pouch fills. The residents of the Sector kept her busy with a steady influx of business. Just as she was about to pack up for the day and get going, she hears a small, high-pitched voice call out and a tiny figure rushes through the crowd towards her and grabs onto her dress.

"Wait! Flower lady! Please don't go!" The tiny girls begs her. The girl looks maybe four years old and is in a light pink dress with a yellow bow at the neckline. Her short brown hair matches the brown eyes that gaze up at her pleadingly. "Can I have a flower?" She asks, throwing her hand in the air to display the coins she carried with her.

A voice calls from the crowded square: "Marlene! Wait, Marlene!"

A woman comes running from the same direction as the little girl – who is Marlene, she assumes. The woman has long black hair, reaching past her waist and pulled together near the bottom. She's in a white top, cropped mid-stomach, with suspenders latched onto black shorts, and has black stockings that cut off below her shorts.

"Hi there, I'm so sorry about this," the woman starts, resting her hands on Marlene's shoulders. "Marlene, we've talked about this. You're not supposed to run off like that without one of us with you."

"Teef, I want a flower. They're so pretty, and I have a coin!" the little girl says excitedly.

She hears the conversation but uses the moment to steal a closer look at the woman. She feels an energy emanating from her, something that makes her want to reach out and see what it feels like to bask in the woman's energy. Her face is fair and flawless, her eye lashes long and her lips shine as she speaks. Her dark bangs are parted to the right, trimmed right above her eyes.

The Planet was kind with this one, Aerith thinks, made with the best it has to offer.

"It's alright," Aerith reassures the pair. "Actually, you came at a good time!" She gives an exaggerated wink to Marlene and glances at the woman. "Right at this time, I actually have a sale on all of my flowers. All of my flowers are free, in exchange for a smile!"

Marlene's eyes light up. "Wow! I can give you so many smiles," she says, already flashing big toothy grins and striking poses.

"That's perfect!" She giggles, "And a deal is a deal." She reaches into her cart and grabs a handful of different flowers and passes them over to Marlene, who eagerly takes them from her.

"Oh," Tifa says, "Well, isn't that nice, Marlene? What do you say?"

"Thank you, flower lady!" She shouts and escapes the woman's grip to turn and run back to the large building that they both had come from. "I'm gonna go show daddy!"

The woman reaches after her, "Ma – hey!" Her hands drop to her hips and she sighs heavily, watching until Marlene makes it inside the building they had come from, with a giant sign atop it reading: SEVENTH HEAVEN. A giggle comes from behind her, making her turn around. "I guess I'm a pretty bad babysitter," Tifa says shyly.

"No, you're doing great. She's lucky to have you to look after her," says the flower peddler, leaning on her cart with a pretty smile, her light brown bangs swinging with her movement. She looks into the other woman's eyes, curious of the colors shining within them. She can't deny, she feels something, as surely as she feels the Planet's essence beneath her feet. Her heart urges her to learn more. Just looking at the woman reminds her of a spring afternoon, the perfect day, with a cool breeze there to remind her of the past winter months. Refreshing, to say the least, in the middle of the stuffy heat they currently stood in. One touch is all it would take for her to understand a little more about the woman. And she planned to do exactly that.

"I'm Aerith," she says, extending and open hand. Tifa hasn't broken her gaze yet, and Aerith is sure she feels her cheeks flush just a bit more. Luckily, she was already flushed from the heat.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Tifa," she says and reaches out to shake her hand. Aerith braces her mind for what is to come. Their hands meet and Aerith is transported out of her body into an inter-dimensional space. This strange "talent" she had, she was fairly used to it and had come to call this place "The Plane," since she didn't really know what it was. It was almost like some alternate dimension. She doesn't usually "exist" there, she was there to observe and learn. Before she could control it, the transportation would occur when physical contact was made in tandem with a strong emotion (from herself or the person she was touching). She doesn't remember the very first time it happened; whenever she searches her mind for it, she becomes overwhelmed with feelings of dread, longing, and the image of a woman who looks like an older version of herself. She would never know for sure, but given the woman's appearance and the ache in her heart she feels when she sees her, she would bet money that it was her mother's image.

What she saw while in the Plane, however, she couldn't control. She had been engulfed in people's memories, futures, thoughts, desires, and more. She decided this "talent" was a gift to her from the Planet, but it was rarely useful. She mostly felt like she was being nosy, or it made her feel sad when she saw glimpses of an unfortunate future.

But this time…this time was different.

She found herself standing…nowhere. Everything was dark, with bright turquoise lights swirling and sparkling brilliantly through the air. An opaque Tifa stood ahead of her, looking perplexed. Her brow furrowed in confusion, and she looked down at her hands, studying her now see-through palm and fingers. It was odd…this is not usually how the Plane present itself to Aerith.

Through the heavy, echoing air, she heard: Ae…Aerith…Sooo pr…pretty…Never seen h-her beforrre…

Aerith recognized these as Tifa's thoughts.

Immediately after the thought enters her mind, she hears: Ti…Tifa's tho-thoughts…

Tifa's head shoots up in surprise at the intrusive voice. Aerith's eyes were wide in surprise as well; she had never had her own thought collide with another's in the Plane. Tifa turns and her eyes meet Aerith's for just a moment before Aerith forcefully exits the Plane, her surroundings rapidly evaporating away to reveal the busy environment of Sector 7.

Tifa stands in front of her, blinking rapidly and was unknowingly squeezing Aeirth's hand tightly. Aerith feels her heart pounding.

"Ow," Tifa says, her free hand rubbing against her temple, "What the..." she continues, until she notices her grip. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She says and she loosens her grasp. Tifa stops for a moment and looks down at Aerith's hand in amazement, like she's been reunited with an old friend. Her eyes squint as she examines it, her thumb getting a feel of Aerith's skin. Aerith suddenly feels self-conscious, knowing her hands are rough from gardening her flowers.

"It was really nice to meet you, Tifa." Aerith says kindly, her voice snapping Tifa out of her trance. Aerith doesn't know what just happened, she feels intrigued but also terrified. She knows Tifa saw her in the Plane, she just doesn't know if Tifa has consciously been able to process it. But she cannot let Tifa know that she knows. Then again…something about that trip was so different than any other. Adding to her confusion is the unusual pull she feels towards the woman, like she doesn't want to let go of her hand, like she'd rather ditch the cart and walk with Tifa for a while, hand in hand. Probably because our minds just "got it on," she giggles internally.

"I should probably get going, I have quite a ways to go to get home," Aerith says regretfully. Tifa looks disappointed for a moment.

"Where are you from?" Tifa asks.

"Back in Sector 5," Aerith responds. Good, she thinks, forget what just happened, Tifa.

"That's far!" Tifa exclaims, "And it's gotten late. Isn't it dangerous for you to be traveling all that way by yourself?"

Aerith giggles, "I'm stronger than I look, you know," she says with another wink.

"I don't know. I don't like it. Why don't I go with you? Or, you could stay here the night. I know the owner of the inn and could get you a room."

Aerith adores the concern she hears in Tifa's voice, and very much likes the gaze she's giving her. She doesn't quite understand why, though, considering they've just met, and Aerith is a kind person but she doesn't often find herself – or let herself – feel how this woman is making her feel. Mosly as a defense mechanism to protect herself and others from unwanted exposure to the Plane. Maybe Tifa was feeling the same pull Aerith was feeling. Maybe, she thinks, it's possible Tifa possesses her own gift from the Planet, which would explain a lot. Or maybe, Tifa was just this way with every stranger. Unfortunately, she couldn't stay to find out.

"I'll be okay." Aerith assures her. She reaches into her basket and pulls out her favorite flower of the bunch, one she decided she wasn't going to sell. She hands a sunset orange colored lily over to Tifa. "Consider this my promise to you."

Tifa's lips open slightly in awe and she takes the flower. "It's beautiful…thank you." She smiles and Aerith takes a mental picture of the scene, because to her it's breathtaking.

"I'm going to hold you to your promise," Tifa says, "and, I'm going to hope I see you around here again, Aerith. Sector 7 could use some more flowers."

Aerith can't help the wide smile that erupts on her face. She suddenly feels shy, and brings a hand up to her mouth in a silly attempt at cover. She giggles and nods a few times before waving goodbye and going on her way. When she looks back before leaving the main square, Tifa still has the flower in her hand, standing in the same spot as before, and she can still see the gorgeous smile on her face.

Well…Aerith thinks, you'll be on my mind, that's for sure.